


making talismans and homes

by chailattemusings



Category: The Yogscast
Genre: Gen, Urban Magic Yogs, animal death mention
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-11-22
Updated: 2014-11-22
Packaged: 2018-02-26 16:05:40
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,890
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2658086
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/chailattemusings/pseuds/chailattemusings
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Lomadia needs someone to split the rent on her house. Nilesy wants to move in, but he's got an unwanted guest. </p><p>Part of the Urban Magic Yogs AU.</p>
            </blockquote>





	making talismans and homes

No cats allowed.

Lomadia tapped the words on the advertisement with a carefully filed nail. She held a paper between her hands, a paper that asked, in careful words, for a roommate to rent the bottom half of the house she lived in. One woman could not occupy an entire house, and with her owl familiar housed in a large cage and needing to be let out to fly from the upper windows, she'd ended up commandeering the top portion rather than the bottom.

If she were going to leave half the house untouched, she might as well get paid for leaving it the hell alone.

So she'd put out an advertisement, for someone to rent it out. Preferably someone magical who wouldn't mess with Lomadia's spells, who knew enough of the dangers of magic to stay away from it. But not a sidhe or anyone else who could threaten her.

She might have asked Xephos, honestly, but since their split, he'd shacked up with a dwarf, and Lomadia heard through the grapevine that they were rather happy together. She'd rather not try to ask a blossoming couple to take up her space with their noisy magic, and their _noisy magic._

Which led her here, standing on her front doorstep, tapping at the same advertisement she'd put out, staring down the unruly hedgewitch with a mop of dark hair, thick glasses, and parted lips. He'd come here with the _gaul_ to ask about accommodating his familiar.

“But--” he tried to say, at Lomadia's aggressive tapping.

“No cats,” she repeated. “I told you, Nilesy. I don't want them in my house. It's why I put it on the ad, for god's sake. I _knew_ you would try this.”

“Lomadia,” he said, rubbing his neck and laughing nervously, trying to soothe her ruffled feathers. “You've met Fishbone, you know he's harmless.”

“Harmless, my arse,” Lomadia said. “He knocks things off your shelves constantly.”

“My _tiny_ shelves,” Nilesy whined, leaning against the railing behind him. The porch of the house was wide, big enough for a bench swing once upon a time. Now it simply stood as empty space with a thick railing, that Nilesy used to support his weight. “My tiny shelves,” he continued, “in my tiny apartment, where I can't do _any_ good magic. Lom, I told you I wanted a new place, _come on_.” He tried to smile, though it was weak. “I'm not some stranger, I'm Nilesy. Surely you can make an exception?”

“No. Cats.” Lomadia hissed the words, finally lowering the hand that held her copy of the ad. “Fishbone included.” She turned, starting to close the door.

“Lomadia!” Nilesy slammed his palm on the door, fairly hard judging by how he winced. “Lom, please, can't I at least have some tea? I came out all this way, on the bus and everything.”

Lomadia pursed her lips, and sighed, dropping her hand from the door's edge. “Fine. Close and lock it behind you, please.”

Nilesy turned the lock and slid the deadbolt on once inside, wary as Lomadia was about any fae in the area that might cause mischief. Lomadia peeked out the window for good measure, but there was no sight of cigarette butts on the street outside, and no movement. Still, it was nearing sunset, and liminal times were the best for fae, the worst for anyone wandering about.

Pulling her curtains closed, Lomadia walked deeper into the house with a quick step, the heavy thump of her boots ringing on the hard wood of the building. Nilesy had settled himself in a chair in the kitchen, toying with the plant sitting on the table. The house had been designed for multiple people, and Lomadia had a kitchenette next to the upstairs bathroom, but the proper kitchen downstairs was always better for cooking.

She pulled out two cups and set a kettle of water on, leaning against the counter with crossed arms to wait for the shrill whistle when the water heated.

“Lom,” Nilesy said, “when you say no cats--”

“Nilesy!” she griped, rolling her eyes. “Honestly, just drop it. Please. I said no cats and I meant it. I can't have an animal that I know nothing about running around in here, wrecking my plants and disturbing my rituals. It's poor magic organization.”

“It's excellent, and you know it.” Nilesy huffed, nostrils flared. “Fishbone is my familiar, and he's hardly some wild animal. He's a pet.”

“He runs through your circles and crashes around chasing mice that he leaves all over your apartment!” Lomadia threw her hands in the air, and brought them down to brush over her long, golden locks. “I _cannot_ work with an animal running around here.”

“That isn't fair!” Nilesy wrung his hands together on top of the table. “How can you ban pets,” he said, and pointed toward the ceiling, “when you have Hoot flying around in that cage upstairs? Birds are messier than cats, and he screeches!”

The kettle whistled, and Lomadia released her grip on her hair to turn and lift it off the stove. “I didn't say no pets. I said no cats.” She poured the tea for them, adding two sugar cubes the way she knew Nilesy liked. “Hoot's mess stays in his cage, and he only screeches when he catches a mouse, which, I might add, he _eats_ instead of catching the thing, toying it half to death, and dropping it on my bed, or the couch.”

“That was one time,” Nilesy said, waving a hand dismissively. “And I use those mice! Their skulls are very helpful for talismans.”

“Fishbone eats the heads and leaves the bottom half of it for you to find with its guts spilled all over the floor.” Lomadia set the tea in front of Nilesy, situating herself at the counter again with her cup cradled in her hands. She blew over the top before taking a sip, relishing the fresh herbs and bitter flavor.

Nilesy shuddered. “T-That's not the point. He's helpful, Lom. You've got to let me stay here with him, please.” He looked at her with those puppy dog eyes she hated so much, big and round behind his thick glasses. “Can't you at least give it a shot?”

Lomadia peered at him over the rim of her cup, delicately arching one eyebrow. “And how, exactly, is that mess of an animal helpful to you?”

Nilesy practically launched from his chair, smacking both hands flat on the table. “Firstly,” he said, “he doesn't _disrupt_ my circles. You know as well as I do that animals don't know any better, so as long as they don't smudge the chalk, the circle is fine. Secondly, the mice are plenty useful, and even if they aren't, Fishbone's a good hunter! And thirdly.” Nilesy's nostrils flared, though if he ever looked anything akin to intimidating, it was more along the lines of a kitten's hiss, than a lion's roar. “He puts me at ease,” Nilesy said, and his shoulders drooped. “Do you know how panicky I get, doing my rituals and making talismans? If I have Fishbone with me, I feel better. I feel like I can _do_ things.”

That made her pause, and Lomadia lowered her cup, looking Nilesy in the eye. She searched his face for any sign of lies, but who was she kidding? Nilesy wouldn't hurt a fly, much less intentionally lie to her, and he defended his pet like Fishbone was family. The cat probably was, knowing Nilesy and his weird fascinations.

Sighing, Lomadia put down her cup, gripping the counter with both hands and spreading them out as she leaned back. “Fine,” she said. Nilesy's face lit up, and she quickly cut him off. “Wait!” Lomadia held up a hand, pointing at him. “I'm not letting you live here, unless you can prove something for me.”

“Anything, Lom,” Nilesy promised.

Well, that was a dangerous move, but Lomadia wasn't above taking advantage of Nilesy's words when her sanity was at stake. She was absolutely not living with a cat in the same house as Hoot and herself, not without pros that outweighed the cons.

“Prove to me,” Lomadia said, still pointing at Nilesy, “that Fishbone improves your work.”

Nilesy's face fell. “I'm sorry?”

“You heard me.” She dropped her hand and stood upright, spreading her legs and looking Nilesy square in the eye. “If Fishbone helps your magic, then show me. Perform a few rituals, some without Fishbone, and some with, and if your work is better with the cat, I'll let you move in for a trial run. I am not saying you can live here. I have to know that dead mice and pots pushed off shelves and smudged circles could be worth it, for both of us.”

Nilesy gaped, mouth open like a fish, and his hands did a small flail, flapping at his sides. “But! But! Lomadia!” He brought his fingers to his mouth, chewing a nail, before smacking it back against his legs. “You can't put me on the spot like that!”

Lomadia picked up her tea again and took a swig. It was strong, almost like alcohol, going down her throat hot, and she sucked in a heavy breath, working down the steaming liquid. “Take it,” she said, when she could speak again, “or leave it.”

Nilesy stared with wide eyes, hands working counterpoint to his shocked expression by kneading his pants, and Lomadia kept her gaze steady, quirking an eyebrow. “Well?”

 

* * *

 

He took it, of course, like Lomadia knew he would, but Nilesy spent a good, damn long time preparing. Almost a week passed before she heard from him again, in the form of another knock at her door. Lomadia had been reading in the kitchen, a magazine she'd picked up from one of the grocers that boasted new recipes for improving the strength of potions. It was hogwash, of course, like any well-selling magazine, but it was cheap and gave her something to do while she waited for her herbs to boil.

Three sharp knocks came from the front of the house, and Lomadia put down the magazine to answer it. She glanced out the window first, and saw Nilesy's tell-tale mustard yellow shirt and poofed up black carpet that he called hair.

“Back so soon?” she said as she opened the door, hands on her hips and dripping with sarcasm.

Nilesy flushed red. He had Fishbone in his arms, cradled like a baby, a red harness around the cat's torso with a leash wrapped around Nilesy's palm. There was a brown leather backpack over his shoulders. “I meant to get here sooner,” he said, looking up to meet her gaze. “Did anyone else answer the ad?”

“No.” Lomadia rested her hips on the doorway and crossed her arms. “Unfortunately.”

“Lomadia!” Nilesy's eyes went wide, and then his gaze fell. “Do you not want me to live with you?”

“Oh, come off it, please.” Lomadia waved a hand. “You know I'm kidding. Come on in, and lock the door behind you.”

She checked the window again as Nilesy entered, out of habit, and watched Nilesy slide the locks in place with one hand, Fishbone held in the other, and he turned when he finished, eyeing her curiously. “Are we . . .?”

“Cleared space in the living room.” Lomadia crossed through the hall, down to the first door on her left, and turned sharply on her heel. The living room, consisting of a couch, coffee table, endtables, and several bookshelves, had been cleared of furniture, everything pushed back to the walls. Nilesy could do as he liked for circle space, if he ended up living with her, but for now, the living room would do.

Lomadia turned to see Nilesy standing in the doorway, Fishbone still clutched in his arms. She could see the backpack on his back, no doubt filled with his tools, and Nilsey propped Fishbone on one arm to slide it off and to the wooden floor. Fishbone complained loudly, mewling, and squirmed out of Nilesy's grasp.

“So loyal,” Lomadia said dryly, quirking an eyebrow.

“Shut up.” Nilesy shuffled to the center of the room and knelt on the floor, dragging his backpack up to unzip and root through it. He pulled out a piece of chalk, and began tracing small patterns on the floor.

It didn't take a lot to make a talisman, but proving Fishbone useful would take some doing. Lomadia perched on the arm of her couch, crossing her legs and tapping her foot in the air to an imaginary beat.

Nilesy made a circle big enough to hold Fishbone, and Lomadia hummed at the size of it, glancing at the cat. Fishbone still had his leash on, rubbing against the legs of one of the tables. The potted cactus plant resting on top wobbled, and Lomadia tensed, ready to grab it. But Fishbone walked away, leaving the plant undisturbed.

When she looked back, Nilesy was placing a piece of wood, about the size of his palm, with something carved on it, in the center of the circle, and he had a ren pen in hand, capping it.

“A pen? Really?”

Nilesy shot her a look. “It's ink, isn't it? One of the the oldest tools of the trade.”

“Lacking a bit visually,” she said, “but whatever works, works, I suppose.”

“You're damn right, it does.” Nilesy stood up, rummaging in his backpack for another moment and placing a feather, a riverstone, and a bit of wrapped bread at the edges of the circle, surrounding the talisman. “For health and regeneration,” he said.

“I recognize it.” Lomadia tapped her foot near the chalk symbols Nilesy had drawn. “Are these my runes?”

“Well, uh.” Nilesy blushed. “I wanted to use them, after you showed me your sketchbook.”

“You aren't buttering me up, are you?” she asked, lips tilting up in a faint smile.

“Maybe,” he sang, stepping back to clear the circle. “Fishbone, come here.” Nilesy turned until he found the cat, sitting near the door, and clicked his tongue. Fishbone blinked at him, ears flicking. Nilesy clicked his tongue again, and extended a hand, pretending to hold something. Fishbone got up, walking over cautiously as Nilesy bent at the waist to offer his hand up.

“Gotcha,” he said, and snatched Fishbone, cuddling the cat in his arms.

Lomadia sat up, frowning. “Is the harness going to get in the way?”

“Not at all. Besides, I want to be able to catch him if he runs away.”

“Well.” Lomadia crossed her arms, ready to watch the train wreck. “Get to it, then.”

Actually _making_ a talisman was not hard, although the good ones took practice. Some sacrificial elements, a little rune work, and an entity to hold it all. Nilesy had been making them for years. His amateur talismans had barely worked, but lately he'd been able to sell them online and was getting good reviews. But he had a point; making them in his tiny apartment, without the means to keep the supplies he truly needed, meant his business suffered, and he'd had to take a side job just to keep up.

Lomadia didn't want a cat, but as Nilesy took a deep breath and focused himself, holding Fishbone in his arms, she reasoned that perhaps a few messes in exchange for getting Nilesy in his element wouldn't be so bad.

Nilesy whispered under his breath, ancient incantations that held the power of everyone who'd spoken them over the years, and Lomadia shivered at the spark of power that flooded the room. Fishbone yowled, but didn't squirm away from Nilesy again. Rather, the cat tucked up closer, and Lomadia shook off the side effects of Nilesy's circle to stand, and watch them both properly.

The circle glowed for a moment, the chalk lighting itself, and there was just enough to make Lomadia close her eyes, and that blink was enough that when she opened her eyes again, half the bread was gone, the fringes of the feather had snapped, and the red ink in the wooden talisman had bled through the grooves, staining the surface.

Nilesy was panting, sweating a bit, and Fishbone wriggled until Nilesy dropped him.

Lomadia expected Fishbone to run off, but, to her shock, he walked up to the circle, and nudged the riverstone up to the talisman, touching them together. There was a residual zing, a sense of static running up Lomadia's neck, and then Fishbone backed away, turning around and jumping on the couch to settle on the cushions.

“See?” Nilesy bent down and picked up the talisman, turning it in his fingers. Some of the red ink stained his fingers, and he switched the talisman to his other hand to wipe the ink on his pants. “Perfectly good talisman, and Fishbone helped.”

Pursing her lips, Lomadia glanced between Nilesy and his cat. “Damn it.” But she smiled as she said it, and patted Nilesy on the shoulder. “All right, then, I don't need to see more than that. Keep him on the goddamn leash, all right?”

“What! No!” Nilesy bent and scooped Fishbone back up, holding him close to his face. “This is his house, too, now, Lom. He's going to be as free as that owl of yours.”

“Hoot has a cage,” Lomadia said, grinning.

Nilesy swore.  


End file.
